Reprise
by KM Choc
Summary: Ed made a bargain with Truth. Now, faced with an eight-year-old Roy, a nonexistent Al, and no plausible means of getting home, Ed's at a loss. Will he ever see his friends again before the Promised Day?
1. One

**Title: **Reprise  
><strong>Author: <strong>KM Choc  
><strong>Rating: <strong>T  
><strong>Genre:<strong> Friendship, Family, Angst, some Adventure/Action  
><strong>Timeline:<strong> AU after the Briggs arc  
><strong>Main Characters:<strong> Ed, Roy  
><strong>OC Usage:<strong> limited  
><strong>POV: <strong>third person, occasional multiple ones  
><strong>Pairings:<strong> N/A  
><strong>Words Per Chapter: <strong>1000+  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>there will be cursing. Updates are slow, have no doubts about that, and I'm terribly sorry for it. As for chapter length, I'm trying not to make it too long.

If romance crops up, there won't be yaoi/yuri. There's no precedent for it in any of the FMA characters, and most are implied to be straight. If a small arc does turn up with it in it, I will warn you. I also promise to warn you about anything else that might have cause to offend.

**Disclaimer:** This is fanfiction, I make no profit off of this and own absolutely nothing. Also, stylistically, the formatting of the bolded parts was inspired by Orson Scott Card's Ender's Game. Read it, it's an amazing book.

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><p><span>Chapter One<span>

**"You screwed up. But... I'll give you another chance."**

**"Why would you do that?"**

**"Because... I'm coming to find that I actually like you."**

Rain hit the empty streets in buckets, mercilessly pounding down on it. The streetlights flickered, one dissipating completely in the dead night. With the hour and the weather, no one would have had the chance to see it – to see the sparks of white-blue light appear in the middle of the street. No one, that is, except Madame Christmas.

It was two in the morning, and she was, unfortunately, still awake. Roy, her youngest adoptee, was running a fever of 102. They were lucky it hadn't hit any higher, since the little money they had to spare would not cover a trip to the hospital. As it was, though, his fever had lowered some, and he had finally found rest. Now, all that was left for her to do was clean up the bar, and then go to sleep.

While she was cleaning the last glass, she happened to glance out the window. At first all she could see was the rain hitting the ground.

It was at that instant, when the light appeared out of nowhere. Christmas recognized it for what it was – transmutation light. From what, she couldn't say, seeing as the street was empty. Placing the glass back in place, she moved closer to the window, just as the light was dying down.

Where the light had been, a prone body now lay.

Christmas cursed and flew out the door. Her black hair was immediately plastered to her face, and her eyesight blurred against the rain. Still, she walked on, finally reaching the middle of the street. She crouched down next to the body, a tingle of shock running through her when she looked into the person's face.

It was only a boy, probably around sixteen. Amestrisian definitely, by the tell-tale golden locks, and the fair skin. But, she thought with a frown, the pale skin had gone an ugly grey color, and the rise and fall of his chest was too labored for it to be normal breathing. Her eyes travelled downward, narrowing.

She cursed. Blood was pouring out of his lower stomach like it was water; the only thing between it and the rain was his red jacket.

Now she had to face a choice: drop the kid off at the hospital? Did he have the time? And even if he did make it there alive, was anyone competent awake to do the surgery without notice?

Christmas threw the boy's arm over her shoulder and began to lug him toward the bar. It looked like she had made her choice.

Getting him inside was the first obstacle she faced. For such a small stature, he sure weighed a lot. A metal clank sounded every time they moved, causing Christmas to quicken her pace as much as possible every time, and to send uneasy glances down the empty street. Thankfully, she managed to get him to the bar and place him on the long table. Mechanically, she stripped him out of his shirt and coat to reach the wound.

She sighed. It seemed her long night was about to become even longer.

But Christmas was no medic. All she could manage was to force some painkillers down the boy's throat, along with some water, clean up the wound with distilled alcohol and water, and then bandage it. With that done, she found him a bed in one of the rooms meant to be rented out to customers.

A scowl found its place on her face – damn it, she was losing money over him! Curse her weakness for children. The brat better be grateful when he woke up, she thought, sinking into a chair.

And with that last thought, Madame Christmas's incredibly long night finally ended.

**"Like me? Is that even possible?"**

**"Oh yes. You make things interesting."**

Edward Elric's return to consciousness was marked by a groan. He felt it deep in his stomach... exactly where the pipe had pierced his stomach during the after blast of Kimblee's attack. Which thus caused another groan.

Life kind of sucked, he thought, forcing himself into a sitting position. At least he was in a comfortable bed, by all appearances, a far cry from the icy terrain of Briggs.

"Madam! Madam! He's awake!" a young female voice shouted. "And... _wow_..."

Wow? Edward didn't think there was anything 'wow' about this situation. His insides felt like they were burning. He had no idea where he was. And he... he had failed. Grinding his teeth, he let his head fall into his hands. How much more could he afford to fail? Over and over and over again he did it. Why? Why couldn't he–

"Ne, ne, Mister! Are you alright? Why're you clutching you're head like that? Is something–?"

"Vanessa, step away from the boy."

Ed's head snapped up to meet the owner of the new voice. Calm, with just a hint of arrogance, and even a bit of mothering, Ed would recognize it anywhere. Except, it wasn't a young male's voice; it was a woman's. A rather old, plump woman, to be exact. She wasn't beautiful; hell, she couldn't even be called handsome. Maybe she was when she was younger, but certainly not now. With many wrinkles upon her face, and the extra body fat the woman wasn't a looker. But she gave off a presence of authority that practically commanded you to look at her.

"I suppose you're the one that moved me here?" he said dryly, noticing that his voice came out hoarser than he would have liked.

"You're damned right I am," she grunted, pulling a chair up to his bedside. "And you better be grateful."

"It's not that I'm not..." he said. "I'm just confused as to how I got here, where I am and why you helped me."

She snorted. "That's quite a list of things. But why don't we start off with the simple ones? Here." The little girl, Vanessa, came trotting up to them, holding a tray with a bowl on it. Her brown hair swung behind her, and wide brown eyes looked up at him as she offered the soup.

He couldn't help but like her already. "Thank you, Vanessa." A bright smile that showed dimples on both cheeks was his reward.

"You eat and I'll talk," the older woman said, settling back in her chair. "You can call me Madame Christmas, or just Madame like the rest of my customers do. You're currently resting in one of the rooms over my bar. As to how I found you–" She paused, tiny black eyes narrowing on the little girl that was still hovering in the room. "Vanessa, go check on Roy-boy."

Vanessa heaved a sigh. "Okay, Madame," she grumbled.

The door closed behind her with a decisive click. Ed turned wide golden eyes onto Christmas. "Roy?" he breathed. "Roy Mustang?"

**"... Interesting? I think I can make things even more interesting for you, Truth."**

**"Do tell, Alchemist."**

"How do you know Roy?" In an instant, Christmas had gone from grumbling host to fierce mother. Her beefy hands – no ring, he noted absently, no marriage, or didn't want to show one – clench around the arms of her chair, almost as if she has to forcibly restrain herself from attacking the very person that had helped her. And though Ed was no pushover, he wasn't certain he could take _anyone_ in his state right now.

"He's my commanding officer," Ed said hastily. "Or, used to be, in any case."

"Commanding... _officer?_" Christmas stared at him, dark eyes looking at him like she thought she had taken in an insane asylum escapee. "Roy's eight."

"What?"

**"Give me a second chance. I'll offer the same thing I would have if I had fixed the wound: my own life force. Just give me a second chance."**

**"... Alright, Alchemist. But you might not find what you were expecting."**

**"I can take anything you throw at me, you bastard."**

**"Ha! You say that now. But, very well. A second chance is what you want; a second chance is what you'll get."**


	2. Two

Warnings: Language used.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

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><p><span>Chapter Two<span>

"**So, I'm out at night, looking for some of those delicious sticks covered in chocolate, when bam! There's this big flash of light and a body falls out. Whaddya think of that?"**

"**... Transmutation? It is most likely nothing. Still... Lust, go investigate." **

Ed stared into the tea that Madame had just set in front of him. Truth's earlier words rang in his ears: _"But you might not find what you were expecting."_So this is what he meant. How... how stupid could Ed be? He was proclaimed to be the prodigy of the century in alchemy circles, but all he seemed to do was screw up. Mom, Lab Five, with Kimblee, and now with the bargain he made with Truth.

He was twenty two years in the past, according to Christmas's newspaper. Twenty two years away from the Homunculus, away from his friends, who could possibly be dying as he sat there staring into murky brown liquid that held absolutely no answers for him. "Damn it!" he snarled, flesh hand clenching around the cup.

"Oi, don't go breaking that cup," Christmas's sharp voice lashed out. "That's good china right there."

Ed forced himself to relax, releasing the teacup and setting it down on the bedside table. Winry had something like that, if he remembered correctly. Would he... would he ever see her again? he wondered ruefully. Or Al? Or Granny Pinako? Ling? Lan Fan? Would they think he was dead? Would Al stop looking for a way to get his body back?

No, he told himself firmly. He could not think like that. Keep moving forward, looking to the future. That's what he would do. And he promised silently, eyes narrowing, that he would see them again. He would see all of them again.

But first...

"Can I see him?" Ed asked Christmas. "Mustang– Roy, I mean?"

Christmas's frown stretched across her face, pulling all the wrinkles downwards. "He was running a high fever yesterday, I don't know if he'll be lucid," she warned. "And besides, you should see a doctor first."

She was still on that, the crazy woman. Perhaps he should have been more appreciative; after all, she both believed his story, that he was from the future, and yet was still willing to help him out.

"That's okay." Ed swung his legs over the bed, grimacing slightly as his wound gave a twinge of protest. "This is nothing compared to automail surgery." Although it still hurt like a bitch. "How would you explain to the doctor who I was? Any papers used to identify me are about twenty years out of date."

"You were a kid living in the slums since you were a baby," Christmas said promptly, placing a hand on Ed's shoulder. "There's no record of you. You survived somehow, but I found you like this in the alley."

Ed shot a nasty look at her over his shoulder, knowing that he had underestimated her willingness to help him – and her ability to come up with a cover story. He supposed she really _was _the person that raised Mustang in the end. But he still spotted a problem with her little plan. "And where are you getting the money to pay for the hospital?" No way in hell was he taking charity.

"That little pocket watch will make a pretty penny, no doubt, in a pawn shop," she said dryly.

Shit. She had all of his stuff. _Of course_ she did. Ed whirled around to face her. "Don't you dare," he hissed, eyes darkening. Had she looked inside? There wasn't anything incriminating, but it would lead to questions he really didn't want to answer, especially when he owed her. "I'm not going to the doctor, you're not paying for it, and you aren't selling any of my stuff!"

Christmas let out a mighty sniff. "Boys!" she said, mostly to herself in a low mutter. "I hate to think what Roy's like when– well, never mind. Come on, Elric."

"**Hm... do you see anything, Gluttony?"**

"**Lust, Lust, I'm hungry!"**

"**...Sigh."**

"Here he is. Wake him up, and you get to deal with him." Christmas folded her arms over her chest, an impressive glare on her face. Nodding his comprehension, Ed moved forward to look at the boy.

Like many of the other children he had seen, Edward was struck by how small (he cursed a thousand times) the boy was. Silky black hair coated the top of his head, sticking up in every direction. It was quite unlike the immaculate Mustang he was used to. A sheen of sweat coated the boy's body, signifying that the fever Christmas had been talking about finally broke. The only thing familiar about him were the dark blue pajamas – the same color as the military uniform Ed was accustomed to seeing him wear in the future.

Ed paused. _The future._ Swallowing, he glanced at Roy once more, before brushing past Christmas and out of the room. For the first time in his life, he finally understood why Havoc and Breda were so partial to alcohol. Not that he would ever take that up; no, his body was already missing a few limbs, he didn't need his liver to die on him also.

Ignoring the fact that Christmas was following him, he headed to the main room downstairs. He spotted everything behind the bar, and made a dash to it. A slight blush covered his face when he saw the early customers were staring at him. Or, to be more specific, at the fact that he was topless, revealing his automail arm and his waist, which was covered in bandages. Trying his best to shut them out, he threw his shirt on, followed by his red coat. He found his silver pocket watch and snapped it back onto his pants quickly, before Christmas could get any ideas. Even though he doubted she would violate his property, it still felt nice to have the familiar weight resting on his leg.

"You're not planning on leaving in your condition, are you?" Christmas asked, incredulity lacing her tone.

"Have to." He stepped into his leather boots. "I... I can't stay here." Him in the same house with little Mustang? No thanks. "I'll pay you back for your help, I promise."

"I did a good deed, Boy, I don't need you to pay me back," Christmas snapped. "What I need is for you to stay put, or see a doctor. I didn't rush out in the rain to see you die from infection."

Ed grimaced. "Sorry," he said. "I'll be back." And with that, he rushed out the door.

"**Traces of alchemy have been done here, Gluttony. This must be what Father was looking for. Can you smell it?"**

"**Mm... ooh! Lust, Lust! That guy smells like it! Can I eat him?"**

"**Not yet, Gluttony. Not yet."**


	3. Three

Warnings: Explicit language used.

Disclaimer: Not mine

Notes: Am rather happy with the fight scene in this for once. I hate writing fight scenes, soo much. It's kinda short, sorry guys.

The motivation to write this chapter is dedicated to _Glass Shoe's Transient_. If you want a sick, angst filled Edward, I say look it up if you haven't read it already. Or, if you want to read more of my stuff, I have on Naruto drabble fic going (shameless advertising!) Okay, enjoy the chapter!

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><p><span>Chapter Three<span>

"**Madame, who was the boy with golden eyes?"**

"**Don't worry about him, Vanessa."**

Edward stepped out into another rainy day, the rain already beginning to soak into his automail arm. Shaking his head, he made his way toward the middle of the street, where Christmas had said he had first arrived.

"Oi! Get out of the way kid!"

Ed cursed, throwing himself out of the street to avoid the driver barreling down the road. "Yeah, screw you too!" he shouted after the car. Scowl plastered on his face, he turned back to where he was. There were definitely signs of alchemy, courtesy of Truth, no doubt.

A new voice interrupted Edward's train of thought. "You might want to watch yourself, dear. I wouldn't want a handsome kid like you to get turned into road kill."

Long black hair ensconced Ed's vision, along with a beautiful – no gorgeous – woman. Hips swaying side-to-side, and dress showing an ample amount of cleavage, Ed understood why every man practically fell to their feet over this one. Next to her, her faithful – and much fatter – companion trotted, mouth sucking on one finger, as if he was determined to eat it. His eyes narrowed; last he had heard of either, both were dead.

Being in the past, it kind of sucked.

"What do you want with me?" And then he said something that would probably bite him in the ass later, "Homunculi."

Gluttony tugged at Lust's skirt. "Can I eat him?" he whined.

She wouldn't let him... would she?

Lust crossed her arms under her chest, and said, "Go right ahead."

"Shit!" Different time periods really sucked. Ed yelped, dodging Gluttony's charge. How could someone so _huge_ be so _fast_? He scrambled to get away from Gluttony's ravenous rampage. But then his left leg, the port already beginning to ache from the rain, gave out. "Ahhh, double shit!" Tucking his head under, he rolled towards the alleyway, intent on getting the fight away from the gawking civilians.

"Gluttony, don't let him get away!" he heard Lust call.

"Right, right!"

Working against the building ache in his leg, Ed pushed himself up and started running as fast as possible. Adrenaline helped, moving him farther than he would have gone on a normal day. Behind him, he heard a distant frustrated sound from Gluttony. But the homunculus shouldn't have worried: the alleyway was a dead end. Ed skidded to a stop and slapped his hands together. The floor beneath him began to shoot upward, though at an agonizingly slow rate. He dared to look down, just in time to see Gluttony smash into the block and turn it into rubble. Yet another curse and Ed was flying off the stone and onto a roof. Two more excruciating bounds – his left leg slowed him down more than he'd like to admit – and he was satisfied that he had finally lost them.

"Going somewhere?"

Lust's black claws shot out at him. As Ed labored his way through dodging them, he idly wondered why the homunculus named Lust would have extending claws for a power. Something to do with roses and thorns came to mind, but the metaphor became a little too pointed when the claw managed to pierce through part of Ed's automail arm. He yanked his arm away, transmuted spikes to attack her and started running again.

This time, he didn't stop until he was at the train station, and on his way out of Central, out of the homunculi's eye... for now.

"**But why? Where did he go?"**

"**I doubt even he knows."**

The train was halfway to West City when Ed remembered to breathe. The train was _at_ West City when his racing mind began to formulate a plan. It was a long shot. He didn't know how to get back to the present. His automail arm and leg were battered. So, while he looked for a way home, he was going to find a way to finish his goal in the past.

He was on another train, this one heading to the East, before he could talk himself out of it.

"**Will he back?"**

"**He said he will."**

"**But you don't think he meant it."**

The green grass fluttered in the warm breeze. Lazily, the clouds drifted in the light blue sky, before being blocked by the waving trees. Ed took a deep breath, smelling the freshly blooming flowers; lilacs, he believed. Winry's favorite. A small smile made its way onto his face, and with a warmer heart, Ed began to trek past the station. Absently, he tucked his silver watch away into his pocket.

His feet took him to where he wanted to go immediately, though he did not notice until he was standing in front of the sign. It proclaimed proudly, in big black, bolded letter – ROCKBELL AUTOMAIL AND MEDICAL SERVICES. Ed was uncertain of what exactly was bothering him about the sign, until he realized that the writing wasn't Winry's delicate penmanship that he was used to seeing. It was blocky and more like Granny Pinako's than anything, though there was still something... _off._

Taking a deep breath, he raised his flesh hand and knocked.

One.

He smoothed the wrinkles out of his black shirt.

Two.

His hands tugged on his ponytail that was becoming too long.

Three.

Maybe he should knock again?

Four.

"Come in!" a woman's voice called out.

Grinding his teeth, Ed pushed the door open, and the little bell rang – another thing that he wasn't used to.

"Hello, hello! How can I help you?" A bright smile greeted him, along with two dazzling sapphire blue eyes. Yellow straw colored hair tied into a similar ponytail as his hung over her shoulder, and she was clad in a black skirt and white button down shirt.

Ed's throat felt tight. Clearing it he said, "Um, I was looking to get some automail repairs."

Sarah Rockbell nodded. "No problem," she chirped. "You sit right over there." She pointed at the kitchen table, the same one where he used to sit and study alchemy. "And I'll go see if Pinako's still home."

Ed watched her walk off, wondering if he was going to be able to handle this.

"**Roooy, you had a visitor today!"**

"**Huh? Who?"**

"**No clue. He had really pretty gold eyes, though, and he was really, really hurt!"**

"**Really? Do you think he'll come back?"**

"**I dunno, he didn't seem like he wanted to."**

"**Aw, but I wanted to see him."**

"**Hey, how many people with golden eyes can there be? There's no way we can miss him if he does come back to Central!"**


End file.
